


Ten Hats and a Gallon

by mechaieh (ribbons)



Category: FAKE (Manga)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-22
Updated: 2008-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbons/pseuds/mechaieh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryo Maclean's a nice guy, but sometimes he finds coping with hats a bit of a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Hats and a Gallon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cendri

 

 

1\. 

Ryo likes to think of himself as a reasonable guy, and he's rather quick to take umbrage whenever Dee or any of his other colleagues suggest otherwise. However, he's forced to concede that his hatred of Santa Claus hats is somewhat extreme after Dee catches him methodically drilling bullets through a handful of bright red felt and fake white fur. 

In spite of Dee's expert, determined interrogation, Ryo can't explain why the sheer existence of the hats bothers him so much. It's not the goofy white band or how dingy it gets so quickly; he and Dee both still own parkas trimmed in the stuff, and while Bikky likes to mock those particular coats as hopelessly 80s, the fact remains that they're warmer than anything else in either of their closets, and neither of them wants to burn their spare cash on more fashionable replacement outerwear. It's not the cheap scarlet fabric of the Santa hats that makes Ryo's skin crawl, although it does remind him of the upholstery in certain dive bars and the tablecloths of Mafia fronts masquerading as upscale Italian restaurants. He doesn't have any encounters with predatory Santas-for-hire scarring his childhood, and he hasn't ever temped as a department store elf of any variety. (When Dee suggests that Ryo would look absolutely delectable in tight green leggings, Ryo ends the interrogation right then and there by snatching up a file and smacking Dee in the face with it, hard.) He doesn't remember glimpsing any Santa hats the night his parents were murdered, and he hasn't been traumatized by any tussles or firefights with holiday-garbed robbers in all the years he's been on the force.

There is really no reason for him to detest the hats as much as he does. But there's something about their intrinsic floppiness that offends his soul, and the dopey pompom at the tip of the hat somehow creeps him out in a way he can't even begin to articulate, and he knows full well that his co-workers are just trying to make merry whenever they can't resist plunking a hat on his head without first asking his permission, which is why he doesn't plug _them_ full of bullets whenever they violate his personal space and sensibilities with the beastly things. But he can't help it: he really, _really_ hates the hats, and when he blasts the pompoms off of the ones he sneaks down to the range, he feels a correspondingly inordinate sense of satisfaction.

2\. 

Dee and Bikky are both predictably immature about having to don yarmulkes when they attend a Jewish co-worker's wedding at a Conservative synagogue, which allows Ryo to reflect that he's not the only irrational guy in the family: considering that Bikky wears earrings and that Dee wears kerchiefs, and that both Bikky and Dee have been known to put their hair up into ponytails, Ryo honestly doesn't understand what they're finding so objectionably girly about the bobby pins they have to put in their hair to hold the yarmulkes in place. 

It's not until he's noshing on mushroom bourekas and miniature cheese blintzes that it dawns on him that they were just kvetching for the hell of it. This is a behavior they share with the rest of the Criminal Investigations Department, and it baffles Ryo no end. He has never understood the point of pointless bitching and moaning -- and whenever he says so, Dee and Bikky just exchange knowing looks and continue their histrionic complaining.

3\. 

There are times, however, when Ryo succeeds in rendering the two of them delightfully speechless. Dee and Bikky are both experienced con artists in their street-schooled ways, so when Ryo treats them to a master class with a professional magician, and Mariko Cipriano proves to be skilled and experienced enough that _they both actually shut up and listen to her_ , Ryo congratulates himself on a hand well played. And although he's not himself all that interested in sleight-of-hand shenanigans, he too is enchanted and entertained by Cipriano's deft manipulation of the silken scarves and tame bunnies she pulls out of her size 7 top hat.

4\. 

Ryo has never worn a mortarboard. He had elected not to march with the rest of his high school class; the scandal of his parents' deaths had been too fresh, and the thought of being gawked at as an object of pity had been too much to bear. He had eventually chosen to enlist in the army instead of attending college, and he'd gone straight into the NYPD academy after his term was up. 

He's still certain that those had been the right decisions for who he was at the time he'd had to make such choices, but he'd be lying if he claimed that he didn't sometimes wonder how things might have been, had his world not been shattered so suddenly. And when he attends Carol's graduation ceremony, he won't be able to hold back the tears, because he'll know that he helped her make it that far, and it'll be one of the happiest nights of his life.

5\. 

That, however, is years away. For now, Ryo has his hands full with keeping Bikky and Dee out of hot water and keeping his apartment in _some_ semblance of order with two human tornadoes regularly scattering their debris across its surfaces, and he has yet to figure out a way to store baseball caps and berets that satisfies both his aesthetic preferences and the fact that, many nights, he just doesn't have enough energy to feed his boys _and_ pick up after them, so he settles for taking care of supper and lets the caps fall where they may.

6\. 

Ryo has never, ever worn a lampshade on his head. He invariably zonks out before he ever gets drunk enough to contemplate such a thing. He considers it a minor miracle that Dee has never taken advantage of his passed-out state to take blackmail photos -- at least, as far as he knows: although Dee's code of honor precludes ravishing Ryo whenever the latter is at too much of a disadvantage, Dee's sense of humor is decidedly skewed, and Ryo is not quite willing to bet that he won't one day stumble upon images of himself with pancakes stacked on top of his face, plastered all over some stupid blog.

On the other hand, Ryo has occasionally succeeded in pretending to be asleep while Dee peruses a magazine. He's aware that Dee habitually sneaks glances at him right before each page turn, and once in a while, he manages to glimpse an expression of awed gratitude on Dee's face the instant before Dee turns back to his reading. 

When he sees that look, Ryo knows that he will forgive Dee for anything. Even if "anything" someday materializes as embarrassing photos on the Internet.

7\. 

When Carol hands him the porkpie hat, it never occurs to Ryo not to put it on. The sudden hush in the room alarms him enough that he immediately whips it off, but he doesn't see anything on the hat to indicate that anything was amiss, or that he was the butt of some practical joke. 

"Put it back on," Carol quietly says. " _I_ wouldn't tease you like that."

Ryo gives her an apologetic smile, but the hat remains in his hands. "Did I really look that bad in it?"

Dee says, "Oh, _for God's sake!_ " in a strangled voice and rushes out of the room.

Bikky's expression is a priceless blend of impressed and queasy. Her eyes sparkling, Carol gently says, "It looks really, _really_ good on you."

"Then--" Ryo begins, bewildered -- but then he suddenly realizes why Dee sounded distressed, and why that has both of the kids blushing. His own cheeks are crimson as he sees them out the door. Once he's locked it and thrown the deadbolt, he puts the hat back on and saunters toward the bedroom.

8.

Ryo would feel better if Bikky would deign to wear a helmet when he rides a bike, but he's learned to pick his battles.

9\. 

Since there's no point in squandering money on safety equipment that Bikky will merely ignore, Ryo mentally sets it aside. It later allows him later to splurge on an extra-nice bonnet for Carol as an Easter gift, and the glow on Carol's face when she beholds the exquisite confection more than makes up for the ordeal of purchasing the hat from the exceedingly formidable milliner who'd created it. 

10\. 

Ryo knows that other men tend to underestimate him because he isn't as butch as the stereotypical cop. It's not only on the job: when he and Dee head to the Dakotas for a vacation, he can detect a shade of condescension in the way the guides talk to him that isn't there when they chat with his partner. 

The condescension disappears once he demonstrates his sharpshooting skills. That's pretty satisfying, but what Ryo truly treasures is the pride shining in Dee's eyes as Ryo walked over to him to reclaim his ten-gallon hat. 

_And a gallon._

Ryo doesn't bother with hats most of the time, and he's just fashion-conscious enough that the weather has to be _really_ nasty before he bothers pulling up the hood on his favorite fall coat. Fortunately, his lover is fond of the wind-tousled look on him, and for all of his macho bluster and posturing, Dee is also quite competent at brewing tea and assembling hot toddies when Ryo shows up on his doorstep after a split shift looking like a drowned puppy. 

"I swear I squeezed a gallon of water out of your clothes tonight," Dee informs Ryo.

Ryo drowsily murmurs, "You've poured that much juice and whisky into me since I got here."

Dee smiles against Ryo's ear. "Ryo Maclean, are you complaining about being loved?"

"Love you... you, Dee." Ryo manages to brush his lips across Dee's the instant before sleep overtakes him.

 


End file.
